Author Information
Fire
smoke coming out of the fire place
the cigrette between youre chapped lips
fire for fire burns the city down
and there it is
fire
flames
all around
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
The smoke in my lungs make me ach
clean air
clean breath
my life almost death
My Thoughts Written Down
the weather is cold
my feet are frost bite prone
so I am inside
this week
.
the forecast is local
I want spring
I want seeds that grow.
Oh God, why is there
no grass to cut!
.
I actually think this way. Dove, on this site, is teaching me how to be happy in my thinking - I'm a work in progress. Welcome to Postpoems - keep thinkin' and writin'. Hugz.
~Lady A
.